Xerxes's POV)

The prince of Pandora was bewildered.

He'd never expected this.

Shelly Rainsworth was a much-loved, adored, honored citizen of his country. She was one of the Three Heroes who'd been his father, King Oswald's, closest comrades, along with Mariam Futapie, Head of Maids, and Miranda Barma, who was a sorceress who traveled the earth. The four of them, together, had conquered surrounding territories, villages, provinces, and even kingdoms, until Pandora was the gigantic, powerful, wealthy, and prosperous country it was today.

And yet...

Here she was, lying dead from a stab wound in his gardens.

Already, maids and servants were swarming over the corpse. Some of them were wailing in sorrow of the loss of one of the Three Heroes, others were reigning in their emotions and simply cleaning up the bloody mess, while others were furiously ranting, demanding to know who would assassinate their beloved Shelly.

Personally, Xerxes had, upon hearing the news, burst into a laughing fit, ignoring the nobles and guards who stared at him in horror for laughing at the death of one of the Three Heroes. He couldn't care less, after all. The prince had contemplated sending them to the guillotine, but the news of Shelly's death had put him in a good mood, so he'd spared their miserable lives.

Shelly was dead?

What did he care?

In fact...he could thank her murderer.

She'd always been a self-righteous, annoying woman, insisting that they should "think about the people, who were starving", and that, "his policies sometimes disregarded the rights and comforts of the citizens". Shelly sounded just like that brazen peasant girl...what was her name? Eggo? Neko? No, Echo. She sounded just like Echo.

Honestly, Xerxes thought. She would have been publicly executed long ago by me if she wasn't one of the Three Heroes. He was no fool - he knew that simply killing one of Pandora's "admired saviors" would cause too much of a whiplash among the people. And Xerxes didn't want to have to deal with the peasants revolting. Too annoying.

But in any case, why should he care about the populace? Who batted an eye if one of them starved to death, or if a family wouldn't eat another night? It was their own fault for being born into such a lowly position. It was their fate to kneel at the feet of those who had born into better conditions.

In a society, there were those who dominated and those who were dominated. And those who dominated made slaves of those who were dominated. That was how it worked. Shelly had often said that all life was equal, which made Xerxes scoff. Him? On the same level as those pathetic laborers? They were far from equal. If they were, it would be impossible for a community to have a working, functioning system. That's how this world works. Foolish and idealistic notions such as "equality" don't exist.

The strong survived and flourished. The weak withered and died.

Just like Shelly.

Xerxes sneered.

Pathetic. That woman...was always pathetic. Good riddance.

(Arte's POV)

One thought - no, two thoughts, kept rebounding around Arte's head, seeming to ricochet off the sides of her skull and bouncing around, echoing relentlessly in her mental ears.

I killed Mother.

He laughed.

I killed Mother.

He laughed.

He laughed.

I killed Mother.

He laughed.

When Shelly's death had been announced...

Xer had burst into such gleeful, amused laughter.

How could he?

How could he possibly laugh at someone's death?

Death.

Did the prince and future king of Pandora even understand the concept of death?

He'd seen it several times, and most of those - most of those were because of him. Because he'd sentenced a person to death for some petty offense - dropping and shattering a dish, spilling a little bit of water on him, even merely smiling in his presence - all that seemed unappealing to her friend was simply erased.

And the way he casually ordered the public execution to commence - no sign of compassion or guilt in his eyes. Not even cruelty. What terrified Arte, what petrified her to the core, was the mirth in his eyes as a person's head rolled from their body, under his command. Did he realize that he'd just ordered a person killed? Did he acknowledge or even vaguely understand the gravity?

Death was eternal. It was forever. Once you were dead, there was no second chance. There was no coming back, not into that life, anyway.

Never.

Death was universal.

All living things would perish. It was an inevitable fate that none could fight or resist.

No one, not one person, could fight death.

Neither could Xerxes himself.

He didn't seem to realize that.

Sentencing irreplaceable lives to death, to exile, to banishment, without understanding, without guilt, without conscience, had earned her friend his name.

The Prince of Evil.

Arte remembered vividly what Shelly had said, three years ago when she was twelve, when she and Xer had not yet been reunited. They had just heard that the prince had sentenced someone to death accidentally for knocking over a flowerpot in the palace. When a poor brave, or perhaps stupid maid had attempted to defend the servant who'd broken the pot, Xerxes had sentenced her to death as well.

That day, her mother had said...

Using his absolute power to destroy lives merely by his own whims, to force others to heel to him like dogs...he is truly the "Prince of Evil".

Prince of Evil... Arte mused. Yes. He is indeed...the Prince of Evil.

She smiled softly, though her heart ached, just thinking about Shelly.

He's also...a frightened, lonely boy.

Arte was no fool. She knew that Xerxes had hated her mother and found her a nuisance. And she also knew that the people were aware of the prince's distaste for Shelly.

It wouldn't take a genius to consider the possibility that perhaps Xerxes had ordered Shelly killed. And in particular, Arte's precious adoptive sister, Alice, would jump to conclusions, as she always did. She'd, as long as Arte had known her, been so fiery and so driven.

Alice would think that Xerxes ordered Shelly killed.

But that wasn't true.

Arte had done it. She had killed Shelly.

Out of her own free will.

This time, she was the sinner. Xerxes did nothing wrong.

Yet the people would suspect he had, and try to make him pay the price for it.

But he wouldn't.

Because Arte would protect him.

She, the real evil behind her mother's death, would shield Xerxes from the penalty.

The one to bear that penalty would be her.

As it should be.

Ta-da! How was that? I hope it was good (I also don't think it was O_O).

I'm so sorry for the late update. I had a bunch of stuff to study for, and my schedule was blowing up. I still do (somehow managed to squeeze in this update), so the next update will probably be in a while. Apologies!

As usual, arigato for reading!